Brutal Bargain (The Santiago Cartel Book 2) by M. James

Author:M. James [James, M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-09-24T16:00:00+00:00

15

NIALL

I can’t say Javier was exactly fucking wrong, and that pisses me off, because the last thing I want is to agree with the bastard on anything. And I wouldn’t say I wish I was dead—not quite—but after much longer, I might get there.

I’ve known some inventive fucking torturers, most of them part of the Bratva. Men who would peel your skin off in ribbons and exclaim at how perfectly it stripped off, betting with each other on who could get the longest unbroken strip. Men who popped eyeballs and cut off digits while laughing with each other and making plans for the bar afterward. Javier could match the worst of them, not least because of the pleasure he clearly takes in it.

I lose track of how long I’m downstairs in the room I was dragged into, a cold, clinical room with a white tile floor and a drain in the center of it, the only entrance or exit is the reinforced metal door I’d been shoved through before the guards went about manacling me to the ceiling. I knew there wasn’t any point in fighting, but I got in a few good punches before the guards got ahold of me again. The rush of that helped get me through the worst of the first part of Javier’s torture, at least.

The rest of it was worse than anything I’d experienced in my entire fucking life.

He left my skin intact, at least—by which I mean he didn’t strip it from me like I’d seen the Russians do to others. He liked the method of leaving thin bleeding cuts, not enough to bleed out or even result in any major blood loss, just small cuts done with the sharpest knife I’d ever encountered, and then belting the cuts, leaving me bruised. When that was finished, when he’d tenderized me like a fucking slab of beef, he started in on the next round.

I’d told myself I wouldn’t fucking scream, but I didn’t succeed in that. Not when those tender, bruised, cut places were hit with the electric jolts of a taser that worked its way up to a couple well-placed hits with a cattle prod when I screamed, but I didn’t give him any answers.

He wanted information. Information about Luca, about Viktor, about the Kings. It’s a good thing that Isabella’s safety or life wasn’t on the table because I might have given up some shit for that, but for myself?

Not a fucking chance.

I just sneered at him from a face swollen, bruised, and bloody, and told him to go fuck himself.

Until he jolted me in the thigh, way too close to my fucking balls. I was naked by then, stripped down so he had unfettered access to me, and his threat to chop my cock off didn’t escape me at that moment. If he went a couple inches higher with that cattle prod, he’d be right.

I would wish I was dead because even if my cock was still attached to me, I’d never be able to use it again.

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